The great attraction of Viña, however, is the race course. Sunday is, of course, the gala day, and the race course is crowded with lovers of the sport. The people of Chile have passed the bull-fight period in civilization, for the bull-fight and lottery have both been banished by statutory enactment, and the horse races have taken their place. They vie with the residents of Buenos Aires in their devotion to this sport. The residents entertain house parties on that day and all attend the track. They become very enthusiastic, and few who have the money neglect an opportunity to stake it on the horses, for all are posted on the records of the various animals listed in the races, and each one has his or her favourite. The province of Valparaiso does not extend quite to the Cordilleras, but it does reach out several hundred miles into the Pacific. Some four hundred miles west of Valparaiso lies the island of Juan Fernandez, which is generally known among English-speaking people as Robinson Crusoe’s Island. “Poor old Robinson Crusoe! Poor old Robinson Crusoe! They made him a coat of an old Nanny goat, I wonder how they could do so!” Thus runs the old nursery rhyme with which all of us are familiar. There are few reading people, young or old, who have not read that fascinating tale of adventure, written by Daniel Defoe, which depicts the adventures of Robinson Crusoe. And yet, perhaps, there are not so many who are familiar with the location of the island which Defoe pretends to describe. The island of Juan Fernandez, generally known among Chileans as Mas-a-Tierra, is a great mass of rock almost twelve miles long by seven miles wide, a large part of which is as barren as a desert. One side, however, where fruits grow and the wild sheep and goats find their sustenance, is covered with a luxuriant vegetation. It is in a desolate location, for it is away from the trade routes and there are few vessels that pass that way. The fishing boats that ply between Valparaiso and the island keep up communication with the mainland. The waters of the Pacific teem with fish, and the fishermen have found the little bays of this small island profitable waters for their trade. It is a great lobster-fishing ground also, and the largest lobsters by far that I ever have seen were caught at this island. Even to-day there are very few people who live on the island of Juan Fernandez. Only about half of it is fertile, and access to it is so difficult that it does not appeal to many. There is one settlement at San Juan Bautista—St. John the Baptist—where the boats land, and one or two other little groups of houses where a few colonists live. The attempt that has been made by the Chilean Government to colonize it cannot be called a success, for fewer people live there to-day than there did a few years ago.